


Back of House

by WhoopsOK



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crossdressing, Crying, Dacryphilia, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Kinktober, M/M, Mirror Sex, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Public Sex, Sex Work, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 05:27:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16212359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoopsOK/pseuds/WhoopsOK
Summary: “I wouldn’t let them really mess you up, kid,” Howard is saying, not quite looking at Steve the whole time. “Just normal stuff; gooses, love taps, you know? Necking if you’ll let ‘em, nothing crazy.”To Steve, it sounds like the beginning of a slippery slope if ever there was one.(Bucky finds out the Expo isn't a regular restaurant and Steve isn't a regular waiter.)





	Back of House

**Author's Note:**

> Oct. 4th! It's Oct. 4th, I'm a time traveler!
> 
> Kinktober Day 4: Spanking, Mirror Sex, Dacryphilia (Crying)

“I wouldn’t let them really mess you up, kid,” Howard is saying, not quite looking at Steve the whole time. “Just normal stuff; gooses, love taps, you know? Necking if you’ll let ‘em, nothing crazy.”

To Steve, it sounds like the beginning of a slippery slope if ever there was one.

In another life, he never would’ve even heard Howard out that far. He would have told Howard, in no uncertain terms, to go fly a kite and stormed off mad enough to catch fire. But in this life, he and Bucky were _barely_ making rent with Bucky working two jobs and a lenient landlord willing to wait a day or three.

A slippery slope or not, what Howard is offering isn’t a terrible way to make money.

Mirror cafés can’t avoid being at least a little skeezy, but _The Expo_ is on the high end, mostly because it has to be – it’s largely a front.

As far as most of the city knows, _The Expo_ is just another posh restaurant where rich people who don’t know how much things cost blow their money. To Bucky, it’s just the reason he can take on less shifts at the dock and actually _sleep_ more than four hours a night. He doesn’t know the waiters on the floor actually only make about a solid two bucks an hour. The steady _six plus tips_ Steve is pulling, he gets from working back of house.

Steve knows Bucky wouldn’t want him doing any of this, which is why Bucky doesn’t know Steve is doing it.

All it takes is wearing a short skirt and bending at the waist when he brings men their drinks. He’s come to terms with the makeup—they like his lips shiny and red, his cheeks pink, match stick eyeliner—and the dresses and the _panties_. The touching took longer to get used to, was harder to take. Before, they’d only been allowed to touch over the clothes, brief brushes of skin when they slip tips into his waist band or bra. _Before,_ if they tried a single thing more, Steve could tell them off and they’d get kicked out. Usually.

“Just necking,” Steve repeats, like he doesn’t quite believe it.

Howard’s face doesn’t hold apologetic expressions well, but he does wince. “Pay’s good, kid, what do you want me to say?”

And that was true, too. Four months’ rent to work parties with significantly fewer rules. _Four months_ where he wouldn’t have to worry about that, where he and Bucky get heat, and rent, and _two whole meals_ without choosing between his meds…

Steve can get used to more touching. Howard doesn’t seem surprised when he agrees, doesn’t say a word beyond saying pay’s on Thursday.

And it starts out a lot of the same. He serves drinks, the men—men who like how much _bigger_ they are than him, _man_ sized, not doll sized—chuckle and ogle him and stick their hands up his skirt, pinch his legs. They think it’s funny when he glares at them, so he doesn’t bother stopping. They start asking him to sit in their laps, and he does, wiggles in place like he can’t get comfortable, a fussy little lap pet. The first time someone says they ought to put him over their knee and Steve snarls “ _Do it_ ”, he finds himself…in an odd spot.

It was never about his pleasure before, he didn’t often find himself aroused on the job, but some terrifying part of himself stops thinking about this as ‘just work’ that night. Held down over a stranger’s lap in a room full of other strangers, getting spanked as he stares down at his own shocked face in the mirrored floor is _not_ how he expected to get so hard his cock would start to peak out of his thong. Steve can’t name the emotion that chokes him then, but it starts welling in his eyes. Whenever they spank him, he tears up and they _love_ it.

Steve starts doing Expo after parties on the regular and finds… he doesn’t hate it. And he _really_ likes the way he’s finally pulling his own weight—two stable jobs between them, the bags under Bucky’s eyes lightening seemingly by the day. Handsome as he’s ever been, but rested for the first time in years. If Steve was even looking for another reason to like letting men look up his skirt, he’s found it. Things are looking up. Howard asks him to do more things—things that seem like less and less of a big deal—and Steve gets paid more, sleeps easier, if occasionally sorer. Things are _really_ looking up.

Until one day, Steve looks up from the fella who’d wiggled a twenty at him for a kiss and sees a flash of a familiar face that makes his blood run cold.

Moving slow back from the taste of whiskey and smoke, Steve tries for a split second to convince himself he is just paranoid and he’s seeing thigs, but no, he’d know that face anywhere.

Bucky looks _stunning_ in his uniform, as always, but the look on his face could flay anyone alive. The rest of his squad loose and laughing as they fan out, ordering drinks and pinching the girls that go by make Bucky look even stonier. Steve freezes in response, wine-red lips dropping open in shock, heart thundering when Bucky’s eyes follow the motion before tracking all the way down his body.

“Well ain’t you pretty,” Bucky says and the blood that had left Steve’s face is suddenly rushing back, running to all the wrong places along the way.

“Ooh,” the man sticking a twenty down his dress sings with interest, “I think he likes you, pal.”

Steve is still choked on shock. “I—”

“Something about a man in uniform, huh?” Howard says from behind him, making him jump, and then proceeds to make everything worse by putting a proprietary hand on his ass. “He’s new in a lot of ways that count,” he winks with a smirk. “Wanna break him in?”

Howard doesn’t recognize the danger that flickers in Bucky’s eyes, but Steve does and it’s making his heart rabbit out of control. If Bucky beats the shit out of Howard they’re going to be right back where they started, broke and with Steve entertaining his right hand more often.

Bucky strolls over, casual as you like, forcing the violence out of his stance. “What’s your name, doll?” he asks, when he’s close enough to tower over Steve.

Steve doesn’t know what game they’re playing, stumbles to catch up, trying not to get lost in the heat of Bucky’s eyes. “B-Blondie,” he answers. Not the cleverest name, but he wanted to keep _some_ things to himself here.

“Blondie,” Bucky repeats. “Sweet.”

“He’s the sweetest little thing in here, but he’ll make you work for it,” Howard praises and Steve tries not to go flush at the complement, he’s already pink down to his neck. “Give you all sorts of grief until you bend him over your lap, then it’s all tears and moaning.”

Bucky’s eyes flash with interest, then. “That right? Would you like that, then?” he asks, “Think I oughta give you a spanking for not calling me my title just then?”

“Look, Mister—” Steve snaps instinctively, then he remembers himself and his eyes drop to the stripes on Bucky’s chest. “ _Sargent_ , I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

“Figure I can forgive you for that,” Bucky says, then sits down on a nearby fainting couch, legs spread wide, an arm thrown across the back. “Once you take yours.”

Steve doesn’t know what—

Does Bucky mean to actually spank him?

Shock makes him slow on the uptake, but looking at the cocksure look on Bucky’s face, Steve suddenly understands _exactly_ what game Bucky is playing. He expects Steve to bow out, expects that asking this will be the thing that makes him say fuck off, cause a scene. Does he think it’ll get him fired? Bucky has never had any hard feelings about taking care of Steve, would likely rather work two jobs than have Steve whore himself out for Howard Stark, but—

But jokes on him, it ain’t exactly Bucky’s choice, here, is it? Steve has never met a challenge he’d back down from; Bucky should really know better.

Steve glares at him. “You didn’t even give me any sugar and you wanna tap me?”

“Gotta be good to get sugar,” Howard says. It’s not a warning, not really, just part of their show. Still, Steve takes it like an order, turns like he’s mad and flings himself over Bucky’s lap.

Bucky freezes beneath him and Steve turns over his shoulder to see Bucky’s eyes flash wide for a second. “Not like he’s gonna do it,” he snarks, “He doesn’t want a fight, I can tell. He’s all bark and no—”

Steve’s voice gives out on him when Bucky’s hand comes down on his ass, over the skirt, but still hard enough that the sting rushes in as soon as his hand leaves.

“Got plenty of bite in me, little girl,” Bucky replies lowly and Steve’s skin goes tight and tingling all over. “How much can you take?”

“Rule is, you don’t haveta stop until he begs,” Howard says, but Steve can hear the smirk in his voice when he continues, “Never known a man who could make him beg.”

This was a mistake Steve realizes rather quickly, before Bucky’s hand even lands on his ass the second time. The third and fourth right after in quick succession, Bucky quickly gaining confidence. He’s not hitting Steve like he’s faint and breakable, he’s whipping him like this is a real punishment and Steve is writhing and _this was a fucking mistake._ Less than ten strokes in and Steve is getting hard against Bucky’s leg and there’s no way he doesn’t notice. _That_ makes him want to cry more than anything else. Steve is looking down at himself in the same mirrored floor he always does, but this time, it’s _Bucky_ tanning his ass until his cock starts peeking out of his panties, until his eyes are brimming with tears. It’s almost too much to bear, a low steady moan starting in the back of his throat that he can’t stop.

“What was that?” Bucky asks, flipping up his skirt and adjusting his panties, the mere brush of his finger against Steve’s skin making him clench his eyes shut, losing his battle to restrain his tears. Bucky leans to the side enough to meet Steve’s eyes in the mirrored floor, pausing when he sees the smudgy tears rolling down Steve’s cheeks. “You tapping out, sweetheart?” he asks, fondling Steve’s ass in a way that is sweet but not at all soothing, not likely in the way he meant it to be. Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up when Steve just groans, rocking against his leg.

“ _No,_ ” Steve grits out, because he never knows when to quit, but still has to bite his lip to keep it from shaking. “Your hand tired already, _Sargent_?”

Bucky doesn’t know when to quit either, as proved by the arm he pins across Steve’s back before he really goes to town on him. Steve couldn’t get away even if he wanted to, but his body can’t help but try at first, flailing and cursing, but never letting a “no!” or a “stop!” or a “please, uncle, uncle!” cross his lips. Still, eventually his wails slipping through his clenched teeth earn them a crowd and—

And.

And if Steve isn’t crazy, that thing pressing into his side isn’t Bucky’s _gun._

The idea that Bucky could be hard, too, hard _because_ of Steve makes his brain overheat at the very thought. Because they’ve been around each other in all sorts of states living in close quarters, but Steve has never _seen_ , let alone gotten to touch Bucky while he was completely hard, not just sleep-stiff in the morning. Steve’s never said a thing about it, he knows how it is and has never wanted to cross the one bridge Bucky wasn’t building between them. But somewhere between laying in Bucky’s lap and being subjected to the bright hot pain of his hand, again and again, one blow landing so hard Steve feels himself _leak_ in response, he loses control of his tongue. “ _Fuck,_ your _cock,_ ” he gasps.

“ _What?_ ” Bucky says and Steve finds himself being levered up by the hair, his mouth falling open as Bucky tugs until he’s standing, bent near in half between Bucky’s spread knees. His face is flush, twisted in shocked disbelief so intense it almost looks angry. “What did you say to me?”

Steve whines high in his throat, shifting on his feet as far as Bucky’s fist in his hair will allow. He grips the front of his skirt, trying fruitlessly to hide how aroused he is. It only succeeds in flashing his red ass to the rest of the room, kicking up some whistles and groans. He means for it to come out on a snarl, but the effect is dampened by the tears rolling down his cheek, the way his voice breaks, “I want your cock, Sarge.”

Somebody swears vehemently off to the right, Bucky doesn’t let Steve turn to see who. “I’ll give _you_ a hundred bucks to see you put that up his ass.”

The raw lust isn’t unjustified. Bucky’s _hung_ , the tent in his pants has Steve weak in the knees.

 “ _Please_ ,” he cries, so turned on he’s leaking at the mere _thought_. The word seems to catch Bucky on the chin, knock the breath right out of him. Steve’s never seen this look on Bucky’s face before. He’s seen him flirty, maybe even a little turned on, but nothing like _this_. Bucky’s eyes are blown dark and he looks like he really would run Steve into the floor right here in front of everybody. “Fucking, please, I’ll be so good, mister, _Sargent,_ please—”

Bucky doesn’t look like he remembers anyone else is even there until a condom and a single use lube lands on the couch beside him.

“Use a rubber,” Howard says. “Don’t ruin him.”

Steve opens his mouth to say something—begging or _cursing_ at Howard—but it’s lost when Bucky drags him forward until he’s inches from Bucky’s face. “He’d let me, wouldn’t you, Blondie?” he muses.

Of course, he would. Steve wants to argue, just instinctually, but the bigger part of his mind is taken up with how close Bucky is and how hard he is and can’t bother with minor details like shame. He’s always been stuck on Bucky, but tonight lust is bubbling over the brim. “ _Please._ ”

Standing puts Bucky over Steve’s head again, leaves him looking up at him with wide, wet eyes. The look on Bucky’s face is a damn good one, too, the charmer smile wiped clean off his face and replaced with unabashed hunger. It makes Steve think—as he’s backed up against the counter and spun to face it—Bucky’s about to drive him like he stole him.

“You know,” Bucky says, Steve’s panties tearing in the hand that isn’t holding him against the shiny bar top. “I think I like you softened up.”

It wasn’t long ago that Steve first had fingers in his ass. The only unpleasant part of the experience was winding up with a cramp in both arms, trying to blink the spots out of his eyes after coming so hard he almost fell in the shower. He has an idea of what to expect, but Bucky’s slippery fingers are thick and he moves with the same sort of determination Steve uses on himself. The slide of his finger is thorough if impatient, leaves Steve moaning loudly, breath fogging up the mirror beneath him. He shuts his eyes, doesn’t look at himself.

“You’ve done this before,” Bucky accuses, two fingers in up to his knuckle. “Who? Got a boyfriend?”

“No,” Steve chokes out, legs tingling as Bucky’s fingers continually glance his prostate with an inaccuracy that must be intentional, the bastard.

“No? Just your fingers then?” Bucky asks, scissoring out and pressing back in, Steve going up on his toes, trying to get him to hit the right spot. “Dirty thing. Who were you thinking about?” His voice lowers conspiratorially, a stage whisper everyone hears, “Bet you’re gonna think about me from now on.”

Steve’s breath hiccups, but he fights through the urge to break down and cry out _yes._ “Only if you _make me._ ”

A challenge he needn’t have made, because as soon as the words are out of his mouth, Bucky is smacking his thigh so hard Steve shouts. “Think we crossed that bridge a few miles back, sweetheart.”

And they have, but they cross it again when Bucky slides his fingers out and lifts Steve so his chest is resting on the counter, Bucky bearing half his weight. And again when Bucky’s dick presses against Steve’s hole and Steve’s brain fizzles out to nothing but static and a steady beat of _Bucky, Bucky, Bucky._ By the time Bucky is sheathing himself, Steve is already tearing up again.

“Does it hurt?” Bucky asks, kissing his shoulder.

Steve knows his voice won’t come out firm enough, but can’t help stoking the fire. “You’re real full of yourself, buddy,” he antagonizes, shouting through gritted teeth when Bucky’s thumbs dig into the abused flesh of his ass.

“You’re so full of me, too,” Bucky comments, bottoming out. Steve hadn’t thought about how much _that_ part would hurt, about how his spanked-tender ass is about to get pressed against Bucky’s hips, but now he’s whining and sniveling, twisting as his skin burns _just_ this side of unbearable. He fucking loves it.

Bucky grips Steve’s hips harder as he starts to move. “So fucking good, shit, you’re so tight, you are new, aren’t you? That wasn’t just a line. It’s good, isn’t it? You’re taking me so good, you must like it.”

“ _Yes,_ ” Steve hisses and it breaks something he’d been holding back. He likes the burn in his ass and the stretch of his hole, _Bucky’s cock_ in him, filling him up so thoroughly he’s never going to think about sex without thinking about _sex with Bucky_. This is exactly where he wants to be and somehow, that has emotion welling up in his chest, bursting out of him. “Fuck, yes, _more._ ”

“Fuck, wanted you so bad,” Bucky says and the strain in his voice isn’t just exertion, it’s feeling and, _fuck_ , they’ve wasted so much time if Bucky wants him, too. Bucky _wants him too_ and Steve isn’t _soft_ but he suddenly can’t get ahold of himself, tears flowing openly as Bucky drills into him with escalating intensity. The sounds escaping Steve at this point aren’t even for show, he genuinely can’t hold them back.

“Bu—” Steve stops just short of saying his name, Steve’s _real_ name for him. It becomes just another disjointed noise in a sea of many “ _Buh, huh, ah! Ah!_ ” but Bucky hears what Steve wants to say anyway. Leans down closer over him to whisper in his ear.

“ _Stevie, you let anyone else in this hole and I’ll fucking bury them, you hear me?_ ”

 Steve comes.

Just like that, like the words were a switch, Steve wails and starts busting ropes over the mirror under the bar.

Then he’s sobbing so hard he can barely breathe between heaves.

“For fuck’s sake,” Howard mutters, only sounding mildly concerned as he steps around to look Steve in the face. “I’m sorry, Sargent, he isn’t normally _this_ dramatic.”

Steve feels Bucky’s grip tighten on him possessively, but before he can try and gather himself to speak, Bucky’s beat him to it.

“Must know I have a thing for it,” Bucky breathes unsteadily and Howard’s face brightens like Steve is the best money he ever spent. “Tell me to stop, darlin’,” he continues, stroking Steve’s hair, “You had enough?

“No,” Steve cries, because Bucky has to come, too, Steve couldn’t take it if he didn’t.

His pride doesn’t take a hit when Bucky manhandles him this time, pulling out and flipping Steve over until his back is on the bar and the other men in the room are groaning. Steve lets his legs splay uncaringly, _invitingly_ , as they get a perfect shot up his skirt, his hole pink and slick with lube. Bucky lets them distract themselves with that, stands at the bar beside Steve and looks down in his eyes as he heaves for breath. He pulls his hands away when Steve tries to cover his face. “No, don’t, you’re so gorgeous when you cry, like a dream. Look at yourself,” he says and Steve’s eyes go to the ceiling over Bucky’s shoulder on instinct.

He’s a _mess._

With his makeup all smudged and streaking down his face, his hair sticking up from Bucky’s hands in it, but _oh_ , his eyes.

Red and wet, wide and sweet and hurt, Steve looking into his own eyes just makes him want to cry harder, makes him want to cover his face and _stop_. But Bucky calls him gorgeous and Steve leaves his hands by his sides, holding on for dear life as Bucky presses into him again. He quickly loses his grip on the counter and clings to Bucky’s forearms instead. The sensation is weirdly sharp after he’s already come, like the pleasure is nearly grating, but he can’t say it’s not still pleasure. Tossing his head, he cries and moans and shakes all over as Bucky stares down at him like he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Watch yourself,” Bucky orders breathlessly, “I want you to see how much you love it when I come in you.”

For a moment, Steve manages to keep his eyes on himself, the tiny little pink spot in a sea of mirrors, sweating and damp with tears, laying with his legs spread on the counter with his dress rucked up, getting fucked by a soldier. And if it were just any soldier, maybe Steve would grit his own teeth against his tears, would stare himself down, maybe focus on the odd flash of heat he feels when he realizes they’re surrounded by people staring, touching themselves to Bucky’s rhythm, to Steve being moved to it.

But this isn’t just any soldier, this is _Bucky_ and Steve drags his eyes back down to look him right in the face, because he cares so much less about anything else here than the orgasm cresting in Bucky. The way it makes his mouth go slack—Steve wants to kiss him—and his brow scrunch— _Steve wants to kiss him—_ even as he fights to keep his eyes on Steve’s. The keening little sound Steve lets out when Bucky’s eyes finally slide shut, arms clutching around Steve’s thighs as he comes could probably be described as pathetic. So could the fact that Steve suddenly detests the condom separating them with a level of vehemence that surprises him.

And yet the sight of Bucky’s body locking up, face lost in pleasure, lost in _Steve_ , gives him a tiny, flinching zip of pleasure like he may have just come again. Bucky groans like he felt it and all Steve’s fight goes out of him at once, leaves him boneless and shuddering to the sound of Bucky’s breathing, close and louder than the other men leaving money on the counter, or further off jerking of to them.

Steve startles, whining when Bucky licks into his mouth.

It’s a sloppy kiss, one for show because Steve _works_ here, but knowing Bucky as well as he does, he can feel the promise in it. Soon as he walks into their apartment, he’s getting pressed against the door and kissed until he can’t breathe. And likely told the fuck off for sneaking around, but Steve can live with that. For now, he tries to look mulish instead of love-struck, wincing appropriately when Bucky pulls out, patting his ass gently and lowering Steve’s skirt with a satisfied sigh.

Something catches Bucky’s eye, making his brows jump up. Finally able to turn unrestricted, Steve follows his eyes to find another soldier standing there, eyes wide and hastily stuffing his dick back into his pants. “I—”

“Where’s my hundred?” Bucky says to him and, blushingly, the man comes forward to slap it into Bucky’s palm. Winking at him, Bucky tucks it into Steve’s collar, kissing his cheek. “Hold that for me, would you?”

Watching Bucky readjust his clothes, turning to walk back to the woops and whistles of his comrades doesn’t make Steve ache the way he expected. He suspects it’s because he knows what he’s going home to and it’s already about to burn him up with anticipation. He tries to coordinate his clumsy limbs to get down off the counter, for once grateful at his size when Howard nods to one of the bar-backs who lifts him to the floor easily, leaves a steadying hand on his arm as he walks him to the dressing rooms.

“Blondie, I think you just earned yourself a regular,” Howard comments under his breath, handing him a tissue as he passes.

Steve can’t help but laugh at that, because he sure as fuck hopes so.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading…as has been said: know your worth and add a convenience fee


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